Peccatis Mortalibus: Dean
by DrayMiaOnly
Summary: "Yeah, you're so evil, Dean." Sam deadpanned. "You have evil little meetings with Angels that drag you out of Hell, because you're destined to help God. You evilly run about hunting creepy things and saving innocent lives..." *Dean/Sam* mostly...
1. I: Lust

**A/N:** I've decide to write a series of one-shots, that will evolve around our boys and the _Seven Deadly Sins_ (you know Sam/Dean naked and doing stuff... the usual yamminess :P). It will constist of 7 chapters, un-related with each other. **All in** **Dean's POV **(hence the tittle), since I have other plans for my dear Sam. *evil grin*

**See that you'll read carefully the ratings, warnings and details on every chapter, for they'll vary.**

For chapter 1:

**Story Details:** Do you remember the scene where Sam confronts Dean about the later being shit-scared about going to hell, but all the while acting like everything is fine? If you don't, go to youtube and search for this **- FB - Sam/Dean - Be my brother again** ... greatest SPN scene ever! *sighs* Okay, now, this fic is what I wish had happened after that...

**Rated: **M

**Warnings:** slash, INCEST, suggestive themes, sexual encourter and bad language.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but a wicked imagination.

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><p>I: Luxuria [Lust]<p>

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><p>Dean could feel it start at the base of his fucking neck, tingling the whole way down his spine. It made his vision blur, cause everything suddenly were all bright and blinding; it was painful to breathe and he choked on the effort to swallow.<p>

Of all the things Dean has done in the past, _this_ was gonna be the worst. He can't stop it, though. It kills him to admit that, but he's _weak_. Weak to Sam's face, with the twin dimples adorning it; Weak to Sam's body, with all the well-defined strong muscles.

And now, after dragging Sam successfully into this mess, this twisted, wicked, unholy thing... Dean can't let Sam go. He can't back off and let Sam be.

Not when Sam looks like he's enjoying it...

Sam's right there, beneath him, writhing and moaning as Dean's fingers, lips, tongue slide up and down his body, covering as much of Sam's skin as possible.

Sam is innocent, he doesn't know what he's been doing to Dean all this time; with his sad smiles and his lingering hugs and his "_I wish you'd drop the show and be my brother again, Dean._", plus, Dean's already got a one-way ticket to hell.

It's all his fault, you see.

Sam, the poor thing, gets in trouble by accident; he does his best to avoid them, but trouble had always had a way of finding Sam.

Now, Dean? Dean gets in trouble by default; he's the type who will hunt trouble down, and force it to mess with him.

"Had it ever crossed your mind we'd end up like this?" Sam's rasped whisper, made Dean's blood boil inside his veins, senting an electric shock straight to his groin.

"Had it ever occured to you, that all you'd have to do was ask, and I would be here underneath you?" The son of a bitch was torturing him, so Dean growled against his chest.

"What do you want, Dean?" Sam asked, continuing with his 'Let's-see-how-long-it-will-take-for-Dean-to-cream-his-pants' plan. "You can do _anything_ you want to me. I wouldn't resist." He purred. Sam fucking _purred_.

Dean snarled, as Sam's words forced him to sort of visualize himself licking his way inside Sam's pliable body -which was ridiculous; not to mention crazy and wrong. -And, Oh dear God in Heaven, so _tempting_.

So carnal they were, Dean's thoughts, so intense the need to have them fulfilled; so dangerous for Sam to provoke Dean to act on them.

"You want to take me, don't you; Own me, posses me, bind me to you. Don't you want that, Dean? You want me to stay with you forever, don't you?" All the while, Dean hasn't found the will to abscind his mouth from his brother's flesh, in order to articulate a proper answer. To some level, that's because Dean doesn't think he'd be able to speak right now; at least not coherently.

So, Dean moaned and nodded, and his heart, which had been beating it's way out of his chest, seemed to skid to a halt and drop into his stomach, as Dean prepared himself for the killing strike to his sanity, to his whole shakily-confident world; afraid of Sam's denial to let Dean have it. Let him have Sam.

_Please, please, please._

"Do it, Dean. I want it, too. So badly, it hurts. And you don't wanna hurt me, do you, Dean?" To his great embarassment, Dean whimpered. Of course he doesn't want to hurt Sam. In fact, Dean wants to kill anything that hurts Sam.

Dean almost started to say so, but then, he realized what Sam said; so, instead, he lifted his body higher to kiss Sam's lips, even though he had been content to be allowed to abuse his brother's neck and chest so far, effectively silencing Sam, and starting on the greatest task he's ever been presented with.

Dean will steal away his brother's innocence tonight. Well, kinda; Sam's been with women, but he's a virgin when it comes to men, and that's all Dean can ask for...

It wasn't beatiful; or magnificent, or amazing, or pleasurable beyond belief, or whatever the hell novels and movies made the First Time with your _One_ seem like.

It was painful. Especially for Sam; although it did kinda helped (a fucking lot) that Dean would go rigid above him and kiss him, with even the slightest sign of discomfort. And it was somewhat weird, to have fingers... well, in there, and the lube was fucking cold but then it warmed up and Dean was looking at Sam like he was the only man exsisting upon the Earth, so Sam thought it'd be okay.

Then, it got scary, horrifying really, because once Dean was... well, balls deep inside Sam, stretching him in ways he had never been stretched before, they stared at each other for a while, trying to get used to the sensations and... Humiliation made an appearance behind their eyes, as they remembered that they're brothers and that this was the way they were created (by the same people!) and they both sort of freaked out and started crying (Dean will insist that only Sam cried, he was cool -the lying bastard.) Then, naturally, they attempted to comfort each other and things got awkward, with a capital A, because they'd never had such an _intimate_ hug before -if you catch the drift...; but, they managed to surpass that (because they're The Winchesters, damn it!).

And, after all that, Sam had a headache from sobbing, and Dean was feeling so guilty he thought he'd get sick, so they started to pull away... And that was clearly the most stupid thing to do, because they were still... uh... connected, which resulted to Dean moving inside Sam. Dean_ moved_ inside Sam! And everything that had happened up until that moment, joined logic and together they all flew straight out of the window.

And then Dean moved again, because Sam had looked so goddamn beautiful when he moaned the first time he did it (not to mention that Sam ordered him not to stop -which was hot -seeing Sam _order_, that is).

After a few gentle and long thrusts it got frustrating; to the point where Sam had to not only beg but threaten Dean, to move -the fuck- _faster_ and _harder_, because Dean was under the impression he would break Sam, if he wasn't as gentle as humanly possible.

But, soon it was frenzied and clumsy and so goddamn wonderful and Dean couldn't imagine it getting any better and, from Sam's blissfully tortured expression, he'd had to agree. And Dean was slamming into Sam in a staccato pace, trying to find his way as deep as he could inside his brother, and Sam was right there with him, meeting his thrusts eagerly and producing adorably desperate whines from his luscious lips. And Dean's cock was twitching and throbbing, while surrounded possessively by Sam's insides. And they both needed the climax, but they hated that after it this would end.

"Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean." Sam continuously moaned into the older's neck like a mandra, like his name was the only word Sam cared to learn, and Dean scrabbled at Sam's hips, trying to find purchase on something, trying to keep grounded. But, with another tortured moan of his brother's name, Sam came against their abdomens and Dean was seeing stars, shuddering uncontrollably as he emptied everything he had to offer inside his baby brother.

And they collapsed, limp and sated, on the bed, trying to catch their breaths and never letting go (because they were unable to in the past and, now, how could they even think about doing so?).

Dean grimaced as he slipped out of Sam, feeling like he wasn't supposed to be _out_ of Sam (if that made sense anywhere outside Dean's own head), so he curled around Sam's body all the same, trying to exsist as close to the younger man as possible without actual penetration.

It unnerved Dean a bit, to feel this desperate for Sam, but, damn everything to death, Sam wasn't allowed to have _this_ with anyone else ever again, even if that meant Dean was building his own house down in Hell.

"I knew it." Sam exclaimed, still sounding breathless.

"What?" Dean mumbled lazily, unable to produce more than one word, and making up for it by nuzzling Sam's neck.

"I knew it would feel like this; that you'd feel perfect." Sam said plainly, like he had been fantasising about sex with his brother his entire life -which would have been disturbing, if Dean _hadn't_.

"You think I'm perfect?" Dean wasn't looking at him, and his throat felt dry, the words scratching at it painfully as they came out.

Sam smiled bemused and shook his head. "I think you're a nutter... but you're perfect _for me_." He specified. And Dean, by-passing the shame that was burning him, because he had allured his younger brother into terrible, incestous acts, could relate to that.

For all his excuses, his fears and this sentiment of inadequacy that tormented him for the most of his life, Dean realized there never really was a choice. Sam was the only one he could see, if only for a brief future (of all the times, _dying_ had to be happening now!), and even when Sam was gone, Dean's soul knew he would only have to wait, and Sam would return back to him; by the side of his stubborn brother, riding shot gun in an old Chevy. That was Sam's rightful place.

Dean smiled.

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><p><strong>AN:** So? Yeah, I know it seems irrelevant, but squint a little -won't cha?

For chapter 2 we'll have _Gluttony_, and I have no idea when it'll be up... *stares at floor, to hide pink chicks*

Thank you for reading!


	2. II: Pride

**A/N:** Hey guys, hope you liked the previous chapter... So, I said that 2d would be _Gluttony_, but I had an awesome (or at least I found it awesome) idea and, now, I proudly present to you _Pride_ (*nudges you* lol, got it? ...It sucked, didn't it? *sighs*Yeah, I got a weird sense of humor, I know).

**See that you'll read carefully the ratings, warnings and details on every chapter, for they'll vary.**

For chapter 2:

**Story Details:** Sam and Dean were on a gig (you can pick anything you'd like) and Sam got seriously injured... Dean feels angry about this... or is it not anger?

**Rated: **T or sorta M ('m not sure)

**Warnings:** nothing really disturbing, but bad language... And Dean behaving like a psycho. ('m not shitting you -he's hearing voices :|)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the boys (sadly).

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><p>II: Superbia [Pride]<p>

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><p><em>I won't say it.<em>

He is The Dean Winchester. He has seen, done, things that would scare most people half to death. He has gone to Hell and came back to tell the story (read: nightmare). He counts solely on himself, no one else. Well, and maybe on Sam, just a tiny bit-

_No! And I won't fucking say it!_

Dean's always been tough, strong and agressive and he'll prefer to remain this way. Crying and begging are for chicks. He will not drop to this level; that's for pathetic, needy little mama's boys.

_I won't. I won't. I sure as hell won't say it._

It would be a blasphemy, for these words to escape Dean's mouth. It would be like admitting defeat; and Dean Winchester doesn't give up, damn it! He doesn't give in; he pushes, and then he pushes harder and then he pushes some more.

_I won't say it._

Dean punches, and breaks and stabs and shoots; and when everything is over, he sets the whole thing on fire and laughs crudely to the ashes that remain. All that, just to make sure he didn't leave anything intact and nothing's gonna sneak up on him further down the road; he's a professional, after all. A calculating, cold-hearted, stubborn as fuck, bastard.

_I won't say it, goddammit!_

'Sam...'_ -No! Shut the fuck up! I won't say it!_

How dared he? How dared Sam defy his older brother's orders? Dean had specifically asked him to stay put and to not do anything stupid. Jumping in the middle of crossing fire deems as behaving like a complete idiot, in Dean's book.

Conclusion: Sam is stupid. And he won't get away with it! Once he wakes up, he'll be in deep shit. Dean will scold the daylight out of him and then he'll beat the reckless behavior out of him. And then he'll yell and scream some more, about Sam's incapacity of avoiding deadly dangerous situations, for good measure. Yes, as soon as Sam wakes up-

'Just wake up...' _-No! Fuck! Zip your pie-hole! I won't say it!_

'Wake up, Sammy...' _-What the fuck's wrong with you? I said shut up!_

'Wake up, baby...' _-You fucking asshole! I won't say it!_

'C'mon Sammy, wake up for me, baby...' _-Motherfucking son of a bitch!_

'I need you. You're my brother; I taunt you and I tease you, but you love me anyway. Please, Sam, please don't leave me here. I need you so much.'

_-_Out loud_. I won't fucking say it, out loud._

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><p><strong>AN:** Huh? Gah, I'm the one writing, but I almost teared up (the silly little sappy chick, deep down inside me anyway).

Lemme know if you like, yeah?

Up next? Who knows which Sin will follow...


	3. III: Wrath

**A/N:** Okay, so I was attached by inspiration and here is chapter 3... I really shouldn't spoil you guys like that (by writing a chapter per day) :| lol

**See that you'll read carefully the ratings, warnings and details on every chapter, for they'll vary.**

For chapter 3:

**Story Details:** pre-series! My take on how Dean reacts at Sam leaving for college.

**Rated: **T

**Warnings: **a bad word or two.

**Disclaimer: **I only own Dean's anger and denial.

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><p>III: Ira [Wrath]<p>

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><p>"There's something we should talk about." Sam said, and Dean, busy as he was, with carefully spreading salt at any place of the motel room that could qualify as entrance, waved him off.<p>

"Later, man, I have to finish this." He replied.

A whisper about how they won't have a later made it to his ears, but Dean ignored it, thinking that Sam had no reason to say something like that.

"You remember I took the SAT's, right?" Sam asked sounding timid, and Dean mumbled an affirmative between his teeth.

"Well, I passed." He said plainly, as if the phrase was enough to explain every single detail, about what Sam was trying to say.

"...And?" Dean asked when his brother didn't elaborate.

"IadapiedforSanfdndIgtaccted." Sam said without pausing for breath.

Dean, confused, finally turned to look at him, only to found Sam staring at the floor like they were having the most interesting conversation. "I have no idea what you just said, bud."

"I had applied for Stanford, and I got accepted." Sam repeated, so slowly that the sentence took a full minute to get out of his mouth.

"...So?" Dean asked, and it made Sam's face to look so crestfallen for some moments that Dean almost wanted to apologize. But, he didn't know what he ought to be sorry for.

"Honestly, Sam, stop beating around the bushes, and tell me exactly what's that supposed to mean." He said instead, coloring his voice with the appropriate amount of irritation that big brothers should have, when they demand explanations from smaller siblings.

"Damn it, Dean. I'm leaving! I'm going to college. Do I have to _paint_ the fucking thing for you to understand?" Sam said, and Dean was certain it was supposed to come out angrily, but Sam's voice cracked a little and the sound stung straight through Dean's chest.

A heavy silence enveloped the room, as Dean tried to proccess the meaning of Sam's words.

"What?", he gasped after a while, feeling completely floored. "No! You can't!"

"I've already made all the arrangements, Dean." Sam told him matter-of-factly.

That? That did it for Dean, and he saw red. "Ah, yeah, well if everything's settled then." He said sarcastically. "What the fuck, Sam?" He yelled so loudly that the words echoed around them.

"It's just that... well, Dad and I don't get along, and I wanna try knew things- I- I wanna stay at the same place for more then a few days... I wanna make friends, and _keep_ them; I wanna do _something_ with my life, not waste it." The words faded for Dean, as Sam continued with his rambling.

Not _waste_ it? Sam was thinking that protecting and saving innocent people from all these evil things they hunted, was a waste of time?

"... I mean, haven't you ever wanted a pet as a kid? I've always wanted a dog, but Dad forbade it, cause it wouldn't be easy dragging it along with us. And I get that, but-"

Dean couldn't take it, listening to all these bullshit; he rushed forward, pinning Sam against the wall, snarling between his gritted teeth for Sam to shut the fuck up.

As Sam blinked in surprise and tried to free himself from Dean's grip, Dean clenched his arms even tighter around Sam's shoulders.

"So, that's it? All you wanted, was to announce that you're leaving?" Dean drawled, making sure to pass the message that he expected to hear more.

"Look, Dean, I get it, okay? You love this job, and you're good at it. But, it's not for me. This is an opportunity to start over, and I'm ready to take it." Sam said carefully, as if afraid.

Dean stared deep inside Sam's eyes, unable to believe that _this_ was all Sam had to say. All the while, Sam just stared back at him, his eyes all round and innocent and twitching like a nervous rabbit; which Dean found annoyingly cute, despite himself.

_'I've been _hiding_ in this job'_, Dean thought before he could prevent it. "Sam, don't do this." he begged, hands trembling around Sam's frame.

Sam raised a shaking hand to cup Dean's face in his palm. "Please, don't feel like any of this is your fault.", he whispered.

"It's just that... it's time for me to go." He said making a helpless shrug with his shoulders.

Yeah.

Okay.

So, really, that's all; there won't be any "Maybe you could come with me, Dean." or "You don't have to give up hunting or anything, but please, please, please come with me Dean." or "It would be like how we are now, but we'll have a house that could be like your base, Dean."

So, apart from getting the hell out from this shity life, Sam wants to get away from Dean as well.

And, no, the pain Dean feels inside his chest right now, is definately not his heart breaking.

Yeah.

Okay.

Without another word, Dean's out of the door and at the back of the motel, where he spends some time viciously punching the wall until his hands are so numb he thinks they might have break.

So, yeah; okay.

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><p>Days pass, and Dean is at his best performance, facing every slimy son of a bitch that doesn't belong in this world head-on, fists up and guns blazing, and Dad is proud (he doesn't say it -Winchesters and compliments? fuck off- but there's a glint inside his eyes) cause Dean's always been good, but now his hunting is outstanding, and Dean's target, at getting good enough to kill the motherfucker that took Mum, gets closer by the day, and Sam-<p>

_No._ Sam doesn't matter anymore, cause he's a fucking traitor, that will leave in a couple of weeks. And that's fine with Dean, cause if it's so fucking _easy_ for him, to leave Dean, then Sam can go fuck himself, for all Dean cares.

"I'll help you clean that." Sam says gently, pointing at Dean's fresh wound, a split across his right eyebrow (this last demon Dean exorcised put up a hell of a fight), as if he hasn't noticed that Dean isn't speaking to him, or that Dean has barely even looked at him since_ that_ day. But, Dean's done dealing with Sam and his hypocritical care, which Sam can shove high up his ass by the way, so he bangs the bathroom's door closed and locks it.

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><p>Weeks pass, and Dean's at a bar, drinking himself to death, but that has nothing to do with Sam leaving <em>tommorrow<em>, cause Dean doesn't give a shit about Sam anymore.

And when Dean gets back at the motel, the reason he kicks at Sam's satchel is simply that Dean's plastered and didn't notice the damn thing resting neatly beside the door.

And when Dean lies down on his bed, and a few minutes pass before Sam creeps silently behind him and wraps his arms around him, Dean doesn't push him off and onto the floor, because the world's all fuzzy and there's a ringing noise inside Dean's ears and he has no desire to even stir away right now.

And when morning comes, and Dean awakes to his -annoying- brother caressing his cheek and the side of his neck with unusual tenderness, he doesn't open his eyes only cause Dean's fucking sick of seeing Sam's face.

Then, Sam whispers "Goodbye, Dean, and good luck." And it takes only a few seconds, a swift kiss to Dean's cheek and a few hurried steps away from the motel's front door; and Sam is _gone_.

_'Well, to hell with him.'_, Dean thinks as he gets up, feeling dizzy and lost, because of his hangover, of course. His head is throbbing from last night's boose, and Dean sucks it up and grits his teeth... for about a second, before he rushes in the bathroom to puke his guts out, all the while trying to convince himself that the tears streaming down his face are tears of fury.

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><p><strong>AN:** And... that would be all for today :|

_PS._ Keep in mind that I'm from Greece and I have no idea how the S.A.T's work, or how American students get into colleges, so, if I made any glaring mistakes tell me about them, and I'll fix them... m'kay?

Other than that, tell me how you liked this chapter... And try to guess which Sin will be on chapter 4...


	4. IV: Greed

**A/N:** Well, here I am again, with yet another chapter... (seriously, this fic is coming out easier than what I thought it would be :|) anyway... don't wanna bore ya guys to death (not until you read and review at least *smiles apologetically for sick humor*)

**See that you'll read carefully the ratings, warnings and details on every chapter, for they'll vary.**

For chapter 4:

**Story Details:** 4x10 "Heaven and Hell", specifically the scene where Dean speaks about Hell to Sam, [Search "Dean tells Sam about hell (a must-see)" on YouTube to refresh your memory], and from then I created an AU sort of story in which Dean has nightmares and Sam comforts him (frequently).

Can be read as Wincest or as brotherly love... take you pick! ;)

**Rated: **M

**Warnings:** generically dark themes, references to violence and torture, bad language.

**Disclaimer: **Do not own Dean and/or Sam. Wish I did.

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><p>IV: Avaritia [Greed]<p>

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><p><em>They took everything; They sliced and carved and tored him until there was nothing left. Making him feel so empty that he believed he was alone in the world; that he was forgotten; that no one never, ever cared about him.<em>

_He waited; with such longing for a kind word, a gentle touch, one moment of being held instead of chained._

_He prayed; to whom and for what he can't excactly say._

_He begged; for redemption, for an end, for forgiveness, and, above all, for Sam._

_For those piercing almond eyes that had the power to warm his very core and to spread heat through his every part like wildfire._

_"Whatever you're thinking, whatever reasons are churning you up inside for why you deserved what you got, forget them all." _

_"You and me, we can do anything, Dean, anything we put our minds into."_

_All he needed was Sam by his side, and that would be true; he can say, without a doubt, that if Sam was in the rack (key word: in -not on-) with him, he would have lasted for three hundred years, not thirty. He knows the only soul he wouldn't touch, or let Alastair touch for that matter, would have been his brother's._

_But Sam wasn't there._

_And Dean broke._

_Oh, God. Oh God, all those people. All those souls._

_He didn't even know how many they were; how many he tortured. How many had he sliced, and carved and ripped apart until there was nothing left?_

_Oh, God. All those people. All those souls._

"Dean? Wake up, Dean! C'mon wake up."

Dean woke with a start, hearing the faint reverberations of a hoarse scream in the confines of the dark room. He was sweating, shaking, and crying. And someone was holding him in a really really tight grip.

"Bad dream?" Sam whispered, and the warmth of his breath close to Dean's cheek melted away the tension of his shoulders, but not the memories of his dream.

"Yeah." He whispered back, without adding that they were from his time in Hell. Sam already knew that.

They were getting old, really.

But at least they weren't the same each time. If any entertainment was to be gained, it was the variety of violent scenes and disturbing images his subconscious could conjure up from repressed memory.

It was getting easier, to talk about them with Sam; not about their themes per se, but rather about the feelings that evoked in Dean.

Sam listened, somewhat curiously even, but he never pushed Dean to say more. He'd hold Dean, gently caressing the base of his neck, or the skin down Dean's arms.

"I know you don't wanna hear this, Dean, but it wasn't your fault."

"Don't say that, Sam, I could have-" He tried to say that no matter what he shouldn't have accepted Alastair's offer, but Sam wouldn't have any of it.

"You could have what, Dean? You could have lasted longer? Do you think many people would have beared thirty _years_ of torture?" Sam demanded.

"You don't understand, Sam." He sobbed, unable to stand the shame. "I enjoyed it. I _enjoyed_ torturing all those souls. I'm- I feel like I'm no better than Alastair; like I'm evil." Uncontrolable crying came again, and Dean's muscles quivered under Sam's hold.

"Yeah, you're _so_ evil, Dean.", Sam deadpanned. "You have evil little meetings with Angels that drag you out of Hell, because you're destined to help God. You evilly run about hunting creepy things and saving innocent lives. And to top off your evil schemes, you spend thirty years getting tortured cause you couldn't bear harming others, you bastard!"

Probably noticing just now, how real and honest Dean's tears were, Sam dropped his playful tone and gave him a sad smile.

"How can you forgive me like that?" Dean asked avoiding Sam's gaze.

"There's nothing to forgive you about." Sam said taking a hold on his chin, gently forcing Dean to raise his head. "You were only protecting yourself.", he placed his palm over Dean's heart, "Protecting this." he added closing his eyes, as if reveling to Dean's heartbeat.

"How I feel... this... -inside me. I wish I couldn't feel anything, Sammy. I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing."

Sam stared at him hard and then sighed. "Lie down for me, and close your eyes.", he ordered in a strict tone and Dean nodded desperately.

He needs this; he needs Sam.

With the soft pad of his ringfinger Sam touches Dean's wrist bone and begins to slowly drag the digit up the underside of Dean's arm, until he reaches Dean's elbow to stroke the opposite of it's bend.

Dean knows this is weird (to put it mildly); Sam caressing and massaging his whole body and face slowly and languidly as if he would have done with a lover. Truth is, Dean doesn't care anymore, whether it's normal or not. He has existed without Sam for forty years -not _lived_; merely existed- and behind the shadows of the night Dean can allow himself to admit that he's _addicted _to this, to Sam's _touch_. And he muses that even if Sam was to spend days, discovering Dean's flesh, it still wouldn't be long enough.

Dean _craves_ this touch; and the words Sam always whispers as if they're a spell.

"Whatever you're thinking, whatever reasons are churning you up inside for why you deserved what you got, forget them all. No matter what you did, you're still _my_ Dean. You'll always be my Dean. You're strong, you're a fighter and you'll get through this, I know it. And I'll be here with you, every step of the way..."

"You and I, we can do _anything_, Dean; anything we put our minds into. I love you; and I need you. I need you to heal, because_ I_ can't be whole with you being broken. So you'll help me fix you, and I promise that I'll never let anyone break you again."

It goes like this, for a time Dean doesn't care to count, and when sleep claims him again, all Dean can remember, see and feel in his dreams is his brother's touch; Protective and strong, and always there. But never plenty; _never enough_.

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><p><strong>AN:** And that would be _Greed_...

Hope you enjoyed reading!

Which Sin is up next? The hell if I know... :)


	5. V: Sloth

**A/N:** Okay, so, today's chapter is _so_ irrelevant I'm counting on how incredibly adorable you'll find it to not leave flames. (What? Sloth is a very hard Sin to write *scowls*)

**See that you'll read carefully the ratings, warnings and details on every chapter, for they'll vary.**

For chapter 5:

**Story Details:** wee!chesters (like totally!), Dean is 6 and Sam is 2. (You've already started cooeing, haven't ya? *smirks*)

**Rated: **K

**Warnings:** Sammy's very first word (ever!), a lot of fluff and sweetness (like rotten-teeth sweetness)

**Disclaimer: **Last time I checked I wasn't _Eric Kripke_. (damn it!)

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><p>V: Acedia [Sloth]<p>

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><p><em>And no one knows how I love you <em>

_No one comes even close _

_And sunlight runs through my veins for you_

_Athlete - The Awkward Goodbye_

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><p>It goes like this; Dean takes care of Sammy. Dad says this is Dean's<em> job<em>. Although, Dean does it not so much for Dad, but because Mommy always said that watching over Sam is very important.

Truth be told, Sammy is pretty boring, in Dean's humblest opinion. Don't misinterpret Dean; Sam's cute and all, but all he does is eat, sleep and poop. That's it. Honestly, Dean doesn't get why babies are so popular; they're obviously unnecessary. Plus they're a pain in the butt. No kidding; Sam's purpose in life is to annoy the hell out of Dean.

You see, Sam is two and, because he's so small that he hasn't even learnt how to speak yet, every time he wants something he'd tug Dean's shirt/arm (whichever more accessible) while making incoherent noises through his tiny mouth.

As Dean already said: Sam is pretty much useless; and it's because of that Dean has to stay behind and watch him and can't go hunting with Dad.

And so, that's how Dean ended up at Pastor Jim's, Sammy a sleeping pile Dean's arms can barely support, both of them to remain here until Dad comes to pick them up.

Which is the lesser of two evils; meaning that Dean would have prefered staying with Bobby (who has the coolest junk yard, with the coolest car-parts for Dean to play with). But, Bobby has made it clear that he loves to_ look _at Sam, but not nearly enough to tolerate Sammy fussing around him.

Pastor Jim on the other hand, goes all Mother-Hen on the both them, which is kind of annoying, but, at least Dean gets to not spend every minute with Sammy, since the churchman (Dean wasn't sure that was valid, if the dude knew about Dad's job it must mean he's something more) enjoys playing with the little bugger.

Thus, there Dean was, a silver knife firmly in his fist (well, no, not really -Dad doesn't let Dean touch any sharp stuff yet- it's just that Dean's imagination is very very vivid), stabbing invisible demons. Sammy was still napping, on the couch this time, instead of his crib (which would be Dean's torso), while Pastor Jim was reading a book that resembled 'The Bible' but Dean was pretty sure it wasn't.

It was looking like it would be a quiet afternoon, and Dean was feeling relaxed; though he knew they were absolutely safe solely when with Dad, nothing had ever happened to them while at the Pastor's house, so Dean could say he genuinely trusted the guy.

It all happened very quickly.

Dean had just gone to the kichen, to fetch a glass of water (Jim had offered to do that, but Dean's not a helpless baby, unlike Sammy...), when he heard his little brother scream in pure agony.

Water forgotten, Dean run as fast as his small feet would carry him back at the room he had left the -no longer peacefully sleeping- boy. It was inscripted in Dean's handbook, (with big, flashy red letters) the first of John Winchester's Ten Commandments; protect Sam, keep him safe.

It was the first thing Dean learned how to do, the first thing Dad taught Dean he must always do. Well, that wasn't all Dad taught Dean, but he had made clear it was the most significant lesson.

Anyway... Pastor Jim was kinda hovering above Sammy, his face twisted in a helpless expression, clearly having no clue what to do, while attempting to calm the baby by cooeing at it. It wasn't working.

With an eye-roll, Dean slid his small body between the man and the couch, gathered Sam, or rather the tiny ball he had squeezed himself into, and settled him across his lap, carefully supporting Sam's neck with one hand.

"Shh, Sammy," Dean scolded, "You're scaring the nice Pastor." he said and Sam's big brown eyes, blinking with tears turned to look at the stunned clergyman, before setting their gaze determinedly on Dean with what was supposed to be a glare (Dean has to admit that, for a two-year-old, Sammy has issues with controlling his temper).

"I was thirsty, buddy. I was only gone for a minute." Dean defended, knowing that what had gotten Sam upset was that he woke up and Dean was missing. He really didn't like being separate from Dean. It made Sam feel safe with him; which was sort of flattering and made Dean feel all big and strong.

"D-D-Dee?" Sam hiccuped, and Dean's eyes and mouth widened quite comically. Well, Sammy finally learned a new trick, it seemed.

"Ye-ah?" Dean stuttered -from purely being surprised, not that he was awed or anything.

"S'ay 'ere." Sammy's high-pitched voice demanded unsteadily, while a tiny fist closed around the fabric of Dean's shirt.

"Okay, Sammy, I'll stay here." Dean assured, arms tightening safely around the tiny body curled up against him. It took only a few seconds for Sam to produce a happy little sigh and carry on with his nap.

Pastor Jim had gone back to reading his book, and Dean was left to stare at the wall in front of him.

You see? All Sammy ever did was eat, sleep and poop; and now he learned how to say Dean's name _and_ boss him around all at once. Dean should have been angry about it, but he kind of couldn't; cause a funny feeling was stretching inside him, making him all warm and fuzzy. It was nice, so, even though Dean would now be stuck with Sammy on his lap for the rest of the afternoon, it didn't bothered him.

Because Dean is Sam's older brother. It's that what takes priority to everything else. First and foremost he's Sam's older brother; everything else can take their turn after that fact.

Sam's breath hitched in his sleep, and Dean rocked him gently back and forth. "Shh, got you, Sammy. Sleep tight, baby.", he whispered, and the fact that Sam's breathing deepened immediately, was more satisfying than any reward Dean could have asked for.

Even though Sammy was pretty boring, he was Dean's priority. And although the manual only said 'keep Sam safe' Dean also always tried to keep Sam happy (which sleeping _on_ Dean apparently did). And, that? That was something his father wouldn't ask from Dean; and truth is John wouldn't have to.

Besides, for a boring kid, Sam's pretty cute after all.

Yeah, Dean could spend the rest of the afternoon like so.

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><p><strong>AN:** Well? I know it's pretty lame (in comparison with the rest of the fics thematology), but...

Okay, yeah :| I got nothing :| Just give it up for Baby!Sam and CaringBrother!Dean, okay?

Thank you for reading *grins*


	6. VI: Envy

**A/N:** A somewhat general approach on Envy.

**See that you'll read carefully the ratings, warnings and details on every chapter, for they'll vary.**

For chapter 6:

**Story Details:** Dean muses upon his life, comparing how he felt before and after Sam left for Stanford; before and after Sam's life started to include other people. Dean finds it hard to come to terms with Sam being on a serious relationship with Jessica, feeling that she's somehow invading Dean's territory (because up until then, Dean was the only who _knew_ Sam).

**Rated: **Κ

**Warnings:** none.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the boys. I just borrowed the to play. I'll put them back when I'm done, I promise. *smirks*

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><p>VI: Invidia [Envy]<p>

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><p>It can be described as an emotion that occurs when a person falls short against another in terms of wealth, ability, talent; or as a keen desire for something someone else owns; in this case jealousy manifests as the persistence of a person, to have something that belongs to other people, or if he can not get it for himself, to wish (and usually to try to accomplice) it lacks from the rest as well. This feeling often verges on obsession.<p>

Irrational jealousy is an emotion resulting from a reaction to non-reasonable suspicions. Often, it takes the form of extreme claim and need to control a partner, although logic suggests that the partner did not do something wrong. The irrational jealousy often stems from insecurity or a subconscious fear of rejection.

Strange as it might be, an individual suffering from jealousy often experiences many physical symptoms; such as tension, muscle spasms, tremors and dizziness in the head. It can also cause mental and emotional fatigue, anxiety and restlessness.

Dean never thought he would feel envy; neither in love nor in life. He thought it nice to admire the beauty in things around him and get through by saying "That's not for me. I need something different." He thought the way to win the one you love is to just give them _freedom_; give them space to think and sometimes room away from you. He thought that if in your life you were dealing with something that nobody else does and you do it well, there would be no reason to feel inferior to anyone.

And imagine that Dean never really felt so good; neither in his character, nor in his body, nor in the world. But he chose to walk a higher path. And failed.

Things changed. And he started to feel the punishing sting of jealousy every day in a different place inside his body.

"I love you," Sam had said, "I trust you". And Dean got jealous when he realized he wasn't _alone_ anymore, in the circle of Sam's trust; wasn't the _only one_ graced with Sam's love. "Only you know me." but then it turned out that others began to learn Sam too.

At hunting it was the same. A series of meaningless "thumbs up" to just make a nice wrapper for something Dean knew he would never do well enough to be irreplaceable, or at least valuable.

And, now, he can safely say how wrong he's been; can see how hypocritical he's been; can feel the amount of the heinous sentiment, he used to ignore, and which, as it seems, smothers him every day.

Dean's envious not so much of particular persons (except for this one you know he won't name), as he's envious of particular situations.

He feels envy for the hand that draws driven from the aura of dead artists. He feels envy for the brain that can compute in seconds how much is x multiplied by y minus the a divided by b percent. He feels envy for the person who's every fibre of his being whispers "seduction". He feels envy for the soul that has the courage to do whatever pleases it. He feels envy for the heart that never tires of beating. He feels envy for the body that with it's every move it can inspire dozens of verses. He feels envy for the heroes of the stories of Gabriel Jose Garcia Marquez. He feels envy for the eye that knows how to capture what Dean can only stare at. He feels envy for him who knows that, no matter what happens, he'll always have a bracket to lean on. He feels envy for the ear that hears nice words whenever it's required. He feels envy for the pen that can create with it's ink all the shadows and the lights Dean has in his head. He feels envy for the person that dares to live the fantasy, not simply fantasise the life. He feels envy for the one living the joy and the pain with the same intensity and, thus, his life has many colors.

Whomever said that jealousy is creative, has never suffered from it.

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><p><strong>AN:** Hope you liked it, even though it hadn't had that much to do with the boys...

Okay, one more chapter to go and the fic will be complete.

Funny, I had started writting about it for the first chapter but now I'll publish _Gluttony_ at the end :| hm... :|


	7. VII: Gluttony

**A/N: **I'm so terribly sorry for making you wait so long for the last chapter. I've been so busy lately.

But, here it is, at last! Enjoy!

**See that you'll read carefully the ratings, warnings and details on every chapter, for they'll vary.**

For chapter 7:

**Story Details: **Rather random... You can place it anywhere you like. It's Dean and Sam eating breakfast in a diner... Except nothing is ever that simple about our boys...

**Rated: **M

**Warnings:** established relationship, INCEST, bad language, hints of sexual intercourse.

**Disclaimer: **I own... a craving for pie, after writing this :|

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><p>VII: Gula [Gluttony]<p>

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><p>"Will you stop sulking? We'll be in the damn library in an hour!" Dean yelled irritated.<p>

"We'd be there right now, if it wasn't for your damn pie-cravings!" Sam shouted back.

"Sam," Dean took a deep breath to calm himself "I love you to pieces, but, if you know what's good for you, Do. Not. Insult. Pie. in my presense!"

Sam's responce was incoherent, mostly composed by a series of curses, from which Dean made out the words 'pie', 'luck' and 'slut'. He frowned.

The waitress in the diner they were heading to was a curvy, black-haired, perky little bouncing thing. Who'd fit Dean's type rather well. Oh, who's he kidding? Dean doesn't have a type; mostly because his type has always been Sam, and since Sam was obviously off limits, anyone other than him would do.

Dean stared at his brother, whom was currently scowling at nothing in particular. Interesting.

Ten minutes later, when they were sitted on a table, waiting to be served, Dean mentally rubbed his hands together with glee.

The girl made her way towards them, her eyes widening as if she was trying to take Dean in from head to toe all at once. Dean glanced at Sam, whom was bitting on his lower lip rather harshly. Okay, if he rips Dean's favorite lip even a little bit with those stupidly sharp teeth of his, Sam's gonna find himself in major trouble.

"What can I get you today, sugar?" The waitress voice, broke Dean from his trance and he turned to look at her, leering at him with a smile on her face that was a little too much like an open invitation, even for Dean.

Testing his theory, Dean stole a glance at Sam's direction, whom was glaring daggers at the table in front of him, his jaw clenching so tight it had to hurt.

Dean frowned thoughtfully; pie was important, but there was no comparing it to Sam.

Internally smirking, somewhat eager to see his brother's and the girl's reactions, Dean casually stretched his arm across the table and gently cupped Sam's hand. "What do you say,_ baby_?" he asked, tugging softly, to loosen the vice grip Sam had on the poor piece of wood, "Any particular flavor you'd like to try?"

Sam's eyes snapped up to meet his brother's gaze. Dean rarely used endearments out of bed. "_Sweetheart_?" Dean pressed him to give an answer, making a clear claim at the same time.

Sam's lips twiched in a fond smile, apparently figuring out what Dean was trying to do. "You know what?" Sam turned his gaze on the frozen girl by their table, "Bring him everything; Peach, apple, pear and whatever else you have," Sam ordered, offering the stunned girl his most charming, if not a little smug, smile.

Dean tried not to laugh, as she made her way back to the counter, her mouth opening and closing but no words coming out.

Sam turned to him, humor sparkling inside his eyes, and all the tention from their morning fight melted between them.

"Why is it that wherever we go, there's always someone to lust desperately after you?" He asked with a smirk.

Dean sighed. "Well, I can't help how devastatingly sexy I am. It gives me plenty of suitors to pick one with whom, one of these days, when I'll realize that you have no sense of ownership over me, I'll elope and we shall buy a cute house with a white picket fence, we'll have 2.4 children and a Coley dog named 'Buddy'. You know, the good, old American dream."

Dean watched in amusement as Sam's face twisted in mock sympathy. Sam reached over the table to pat Dean's arm. "There, there, Dean. One of these days you'll realize that if you did_ that_, I'd kill whoever you eloped with, then I'd kidnap you and tie you to my bedpost to have my wicked way with you. Multiple times."

"Really?" Dean asked, his posture brightening. Sam laughed, and, this will sound terribly corny, but the sound was kinda like music to Dean's ears. Damn adorable incestous little brothers! Damn them all!

"So?" Sam inquired.

"So... What?"

"What was that all about? I thought PDA was a hell-no." Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well... There's this young/hot hunter I know, kind of a bitch but pretty damn useful ocasionally, and he told me once that if I care about what people think of me, I give them the power to judge me." Truth was, Dean was tired of pretending he wasn't with Sam.

"And I really, _really_ hate it when people think they have the right to judge me." Cause every time Dean did something outrageous, like hold Sam's hand, the world was all "OMG! Look! Gay people!", like they were guinea pigs in a laboratory or something. Stupid fuckers, all of them.

"So,_ that_ was me making clear I don't give a shit, if being with you is acceptable or not." Plus Dean was sort of pissed off with all the leering sluts all over his brother -seriously, Sam was oblivious to how hot he was, and how much people (women and men alike) around him noticed that. Dean was not.

"I see," Sam looked like he was trying to smother a grin, "Your friend must be very smart," He said nodding his head knowingly.

"Oh, yeah, he thinks so." Dean nodded, chuckling as Sam automatically scowled.

"I mean," Dean followed up hastily, "I've waited for years, to have you with me, and I'm not giving that up for anything. Not now, not ever; you know that, Sammy." He explained awkwardly, hating that he sounded like a love-sick puppy and loving that it made Sammy smile again.

"I know," Sam says softly. "But a lot can change if we become more public, and I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to mess up your life again."

Dean sighed, understanding that Sam still felt guilty about the whole Stanford thing. Dean took a deep breath for courage, contemplating on how cheesy the next line was gonna sound, but deciding that if his honest-to-God feelings were cheesy then so be it. "My life_ is_ you -start to finish, inside and out. Everything else is just the journey."

For a moment, Sam remained silent and Dean thought _'Okay, that wasn't so bad'_. Now, they could relax and eat breakfast together at peace.

Sam didn't look like he was going to do anything crazy. Except he was always doing crazy shit while acting like it was no big deal. He tilted his head a little to the side, and when Dean unconsiously did the same, Sam leaped forward, climbing on the table, knocking everything on the ground and landed stradling Dean's lap.

It was one of those kisses Dean had seen in movies, the kind in which two people's mouths open automatically and their tongues meet without awkward hesitation and disjointed movements and everything else around them fade to the background, unimportant and forgotten.

Sam kissed like he did everything else, generously, holding nothing back, with raw feeling and a reluctance to let go. And with something other, Dean didn't have a word for, but that made him believe that, in a way, he had always been able to reach Sam if he'd only taken the step.

"Sammy," Dean gasped when Sam's mouth released his and started a beeline down his neck whispering I love you's as he went, "let's get the fuck out of here." Dean demanded.

"I thought you wanted _pie_," Sam teased nibbling softly on the spot below Dean's ear.

Dean almost laughed, but it came out like a choked moan. Pie's got nothin' on Sammy. "I'd rather eat you," Dean rasped, his cock hardening more and more with every lick, suck and bite.

Leaving money on the table, rushing out of the diner, jumping into the car and even the route back to the motel room, were all a blur for Dean.

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><p><strong>AN:** And... done! That was... yummy (I hope). Okay... You know what to do!


End file.
